


Closing the Distance

by purple_summer



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: College AU, Friends to Lovers, Jack is scared of relationships, M/M, Painfully obviously based on 'The Only Exception' by Paramore, Swearing, especially the music video
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 00:50:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12222381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_summer/pseuds/purple_summer
Summary: Jack is lying next to Mark, closer to love than he ever has been, and terrified of it. He decides he has to leave, but recounting the previous night on his walk home may end up showing him that fear is worth it for a chance at love. Can Jack take a stand to his demons for a chance with Mark? Or will he protect his heart and reduce their status to friends once again?





	Closing the Distance

**Author's Note:**

> Really quick since my last upload, but I've actually been working on this for a while. I like the idea and I had a lot of fun writing it. Those of you who have seen the music video for "The Only Exception" by Paramore may find parts of this *ahem* familiar, but I liked it so much I had to write about it with my favourite YouTuber couple. Really hope you enjoy!

Rain drummed against the window, muted in its softness but still ever-present as the moments, seconds, minutes went by where Jack laid beside Mark on his couch. There was one arm draped over him, Mark’s head buried in his neck, and a tangle of legs Jack couldn’t describe if he tried. They were both fully clothed, damp from the April showers outside, but the even this level of intimacy, being this close to someone, this vulnerable, was brand new to Jack.

Love always seemed complicated. At least that’s how his parents made it seem. Slamming doors and raised voices, cannonballs to a ship once strong and steadfast as it slowly starts to sink into the icy waters below. Love seemed like an easy way to turn a great friendship into something far more difficult, complicated, and uncomfortably close. He saw pictures of his parents when they were young, and through the time passage of photo albums stored neatly away in near untouched shelves, he saw their happiness dim, and their love grow weary.

His Dad left, and though his mother’s happiness had gone, her love remained. Though on most levels, she wanted him to leave, it devastated her when he did. The awkward discussion of what night’s he would stay with his mother and his father, what holidays he would dish out to each parent, what each of them was asking for in the divorce settlement, it all added up to one thing for Jack: the acceptance that love was no movie or wonderful story. It was arduous, near impossible to get right, and in most cases, more hurt than it’s worth.

Even when he tried to get close, tried to behave the way his feelings said he should, a wall went up. He would call it off, reduce his status with the given person to friendship, or disappear from their life altogether. Twenty two years old, never a real relationship, a kiss never gone on past a few seconds, a heart untouched. He tried to protect it, and ended up treating it like glass. Still, he supposed, it was better than the alternative. 

But here he was. In Mark’s apartment. Laying with him and not really wanting to leave. He wondered, for a moment, if he could let himself sink into the cushions, sink into Mark, and let himself try this. It felt different this time, safer.

But then he caught himself.

He couldn’t stay.

Mark meant more to Jack than any friend he’d ever had. He knew Mark liked him, had for a while now, and he knew that those feelings weren’t completely unreciprocated. But if he called it off now, left while Mark was asleep, gave him the message without saying it, they could still be just friends, and none of tonight would matter. Mark could find someone new, someone who wanted this. And if it didn’t work out between them, he would still have Mark. If _he_ and Mark didn’t work out, he knew there was a huge possibility he would lose Mark forever. He wanted him, sure, but more than that, he wanted him to stay.

So he had to leave. Unwrapping himself carefully from Mark’s embrace, he slowly sat up on the edge of the couch to assess what the fallout of leaving right now would be.

A small fight, some hurt feelings, and then the realisation they would be better as friends. And the feelings they both felt would dissipate, leaving their friendship no weaker than it was before. That was the plan. It would work. Still, he didn’t feel right just leaving. 

He caught sight of the pad of paper Mark left by his landline, accompanied by a small ballpoint pen. He would leave a message. He took the pad into his lap, and began to think about how he could put it, how he could explain without giving too much away, something subtle, something succinct.

And then he stopped thinking.

 _I’m sorry,_ he wrote. Simple and honest. He tore the page from the pad and left it on the coffee table in front of him. It would be the first thing Mark saw when he woke up.

Looking out the window, he saw the night had turned light blue whilst he was unaware. It looked to be at least four o’clock. Felt like it too. Jack was exhausted, and truth be told he wanted to stay. Whether to rest, or for Mark, he wasn’t quite sure. But that’s exactly why he needed to go.

He stood, fixing his clothes quickly. Mark’s apartment living room, directly joined to his kitchen and front door, was illuminated in the soft glow of an overhead lamp Mark had forgotten to turn off. As he stepped out, heading for the exit, it seemed to be lit like a stage with a single spotlight. Soft, warm and inviting. And he stood in the darkness of the room, slipping away from the light, knowing that if he didn’t stay in it, he never had to see it turn off.

A lump of guilt was in his chest, adding to his discomfort, as he slowly opened Mark’s door, and closed it behind him, locking it with his spare key. The normally green hall looked painted black this late -or early- with a cold, blue glow seeming like the only colour there was. He walked quickly down the stairs and pushed through the heavy front door out into the brisk street. He shuddered the instant a water droplet fell on his neck, and instantaneously threw up his hood and zipped his jacket to the top. The street was barren, and with no stars still visible, the glare of the street lights were his guide back to his place. It wasn’t far, but it was enough time to think. And Jack _hated_ that.

It was a walk back to his place where he thought about the fact that he may be into Mark.

It was another walk back to his place when he wondered if that would be such a bad thing.

Yet another walk back to his place was when he thought, as the puzzle pieces fitted together, that Mark may also be into him.

And here he was, wondering why he couldn’t take advantage of what many would think was a perfect opportunity. He liked someone, no matter how he tried to deny it, and they liked him too. And rather than take advantage of fate handing him a chance at love, he ran.

He thought back at the night, how he ended up at Mark’s.

Mark and Jack’s friends had a band that played in a local club. They went along to support them every Friday. Both men enjoyed their music, but given that some weeks they were met with thunderous applause and some weeks they were met with total silence, it was hard to tell whether they were actually any good or not. Maybe they both just liked the music because their friends made it. Nevertheless, they came along every week and clapped and cheered as loud as they could.

It was an opportunity to see and support his friends, as well as an opportunity to talk to Mark. Being in college, the danger of growing apart from your high school friends was ever-present, so it was nice to have this time once a week, between Wade, Ethan, and Bob going to set up, and their set starting, to talk one on one and keep their friendship alive and growing. Of course they all went out together once the set was done anyway, but the one on one time was important to Jack. And rather than growing apart, Mark had actually became his best friend.

This particular week, the subject of relationships had come up.

Jack was nursing a beer, eyes wide, as Mark recounted his long list of love affairs. “… Josie, that lasted three months. Four months? Three. Then Robin, that didn’t work out either. Then there was Jamie, my first boyfriend, he was cool for a while, but he started getting all jealous and angry…”

“Jesus,” Jack exclaimed, “I don’t even _know_ the amount of people you’ve fucked!”

They shared a laugh. “I didn’t fuck all of them Jack! I started dating at 14. That’d be gross.”

Jack rolled his eyes “Still, though, in the nine years you’ve been dating you’ve been with… how many people?”

“Let me think…” Mark started to ponder. “Roxanne, Jenny, Kimberly, Kelly, Maria, Sasha, Wendy, Shannon, Alisha, Carly, Trish, Nina, Vivien, Tracy, Penelope, Josie, Robin, Jamie, Josh, Ty –this was my boy phase- Jason, David, Mark, -that got confusing- Ella, Freya, Zoe, George, Nina again, and that takes us up to Dana. And that was the last person. How many is that?”

“Twenty eight.” Jack said, flabbergasted. “Twenty- _nine_ if you include the second time you dated Nina as a different thing altogether. Holy shit, man!”

“What? It averages out to, like, just over three girls a year! That’s not bad!”

“I’m not good at math, Mark! I didn’t think about averages I thought ‘Jesus, that’s a lot of names. And another. And another. And another.’” He chuckled. Mark shoved him. “How do you do it, man?”

Mark looked confused for a moment. “Do what?”

“Date. Repeatedly. Break-up, feel bad, and then have the guts to do it all again.” Jack stopped listing the multiple problems with dating when he saw a sunken look begin to form on Mark’s face. His tone switched to apologetic, “Hey man, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to, like… talk you out of it, or anything. I genuinely want to know, cos I just don’t get it.”

Mark shrugged. “I guess when I meet someone new, I don’t think about the past. Or any awful future where we broke up. I see the possibility that that’s the person I’m supposed to be with. When you get into a relationship, you’ll break up or stay together. I just try to let myself believe we’ll stay together. Sure, it’s bitten me on the ass a few times, but it’s also meant I’ve had a lot of amazing times with a lot of amazing people. And it also means I’m one person closer to finding that one I’m going to stay with.” Mark was smiling, and Jack was too. For some reason, Mark’s wistful description and heartfelt optimism had even Jack loosened up to love for a moment. Mark looked at him, breaking the atmosphere with a short laugh. “So, does love, like, freak you out or something, man?”

“Love is fine when it’s for other people, but I wouldn’t go looking for it myself.” Jack said absent-mindedly.

He hadn’t even noticed his eyes locking on Mark’s. He smiled. “Sometimes it just happens to you.”

The air hung silent between them. Mark suddenly felt closer to him, and Jack’s heart started to speed up with anxiety. The prospect of love had just been laid out by someone Jack… felt for. By someone who felt for him too. When something’s unspoken, it’s fine. Because technically, it’s still nothing. Still safely distant. And now he was close. Uncomfortable. But still wanted to be closer.

He felt a jolt when he looked down and saw Mark’s hand on his. Even scarier, Jack had pressed his hand to Mark’s thigh without noticing. Jack pulled back as casually as he could, which was still nowhere near casual, but moreso than screaming and running out of the room.

“I…” Jack searched his clouded mind for something to say. “That doesn’t mean it’s worth it though.” He turned to face into the bar, staring into his drink. “Just because you feel it…” he tried to explain futilely.

“Well…” Mark sounded hurt. It stung Jack. “Just because you’re afraid doesn’t mean it’s _not_ worth doing, right?” Mark rested a hopeful hand on Jack’s shoulder. It was warm, inviting, and Jack found himself unable to resist turning his head. Mark thought the look of longing under the fear in Jack’s deep, blue eyes was undeniable. Jack began to think so too, as he continued trying to deny.

“Mark,” not even Jack could tell if it was a protest or an invitation. He decided on protest. “You don’t want me.” Jack assured, maybe more to himself.  “You love love. You love relationships, and being in them. You believe in them. Even if you did get me to open up to one, there’s no guarantee I’d ever be worth it. We could break up. We could lose a good friendship trying to make it something more.”

“It already is something more.” Mark insisted. Jack found it hard to argue. “I know who you are, Jack. I know you’re not a relationship guy, and I know why. But I like you, and you like me. So why not take that leap?”

Jack had to stand up. “That’s just the thing, Mark. You can take the leap. You can just go for it. I can’t. That’s why this wouldn’t work.”

“You have taken the leap! Do you even realise how close we are? You stay at my apartment all the time, I stay at yours, we talk whenever we’re not hanging out, I’d do anything for you, and I know you’d do anything for me. What does adding a title to that change?”

“It’s not that easy!” Jack shouted, immediately regretting it. Mark looked down in hurt. Taking a moment to compose himself, he sat down again next to Mark. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get mad. It’s just… this is all so new to me. I can’t.”

“I understand.” Mark said, with a weak smile. Jack patted him on the back, and quickly changed the subject to how long the band was taking to set up. They got on to the topic of music, concert’s they’d been to, and things seemed normal again.

And Jack felt miserable.

This was what we wanted, but more and more it felt like what he wanted was for Mark to prove him wrong. Make him feel wrong. Maybe he did. As he looked across at Mark, his dark hair falling over his sweet yet chiselled face, smiling in a way that made everything except distance from him feel okay, he wished he had kissed him.

“You okay?” Mark asked, concerned. Damn it. The sadness slipped to his face.

Jack tried to speak. There were no words. Nothing he could say. So he leaned in, ignoring Mark’s eyes widening in hope and trying to think for himself, make sure this was what he wanted. He clasped his hands around Mark’s neck, closing more distance between the two. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to run, but his heart said he wanted Mark and his brain said this was his chance. He tilted his head to the side, and finally closed the distance. His lips interlocked with Mark’s, and he pressed hard, drinking in the sensation. A kiss that wasn’t pure lust, a kiss that wasn’t awkward and unwanted, or part of a game. A kiss of pure want, and pure affection. A kiss that went straight to his chest, and pumped a warm feeling through his body. His nerves were calm. His instincts died down. And when he pulled away, all that was there was Mark. Glad, accepting, and radiating happiness. Jack was beaming back at him.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Mark asked.

Jack was too breathless to respond, but nodded quickly.

They got out of the bar, travelling restlessly through the streets on the long walk back to Mark’s. They talked, pulled each other close when they strayed too far from each other, clumsy, slightly drunk, and completely content. All of Jack’s doubt was a distant memory he’d left behind him. And what remained was one clear fact. He didn’t just like Mark. He didn’t just want Mark. He loved him.

Even before he realised he had feelings for him, he loved him. He’d spent every minute since he’d met Mark falling in love with him. He didn’t know how long Mark had loved him, but the look in his eyes said time wasn’t important. He loved him back the same amount. Somehow, Jack felt safe.

They were kissing every few steps by the time they reached Mark’s building.

They headed upstairs. Exhausted from the walk and the fact that it was so late, the minute they got in, they made a silent agreement to just sleep in the nearest comfortable place. They stumbled to the couch, giggling while trying to make their way to the couch while keeping as much contact as possible. Jack hadn’t even thought about it since the bar.

They fell to the couch, lacking grace, jackets and shoes still on, crushed way too close together. And it felt perfect. Mark fell asleep behind him quickly, and Jack went to sleep, happy, relaxed, and in love.

And then woke up twenty minutes later. The fear crept back in.

But the more Jack thought, the less sense leaving made. Okay, the alcohol was gone, and the instant passion had died down a little, which made things scarier, but last night he was happier than he’d been in a long time. And he was leaving all of that behind, throwing it away. For fear. For nothing.

If he went back now, that would be it. No easy way out. There would be commitment, togetherness, fights, and the fear that a breakup was always coming. Jack didn’t feel ready. But despite what he felt, he knew he’d made a mistake. Because as he thought about the commitment, the fights, the fear, it didn’t scare him anymore. He wanted it. Because that was the price of having Mark. And everything Mark said at the bar suddenly made sense.

He turned around and paced back to Mark’s apartment. Of course he couldn’t undo years of emotional damage in one night, but this was a start. As he walked down the streets, up the stairs, through the door, he knew he was still scared. But he wasn’t scared enough to run anymore. He was just another dumbass giving into love now.

Quietly flipping the lock on the apartment door, he slipped back inside and locked the door behind him again, and made his way back to the soft glow of the living room. He looked at Mark, still sleeping, thank God, and smiled. He pushed the hair off Mark’s face and kissed his forehead gently. He turned and ripped his message to Mark out of the note pad and crumpled it as quietly as possible as he paced over to the window. He opened it and threw the paper down into the street.

“Jack…?” Mark said groggily behind him. The sound of the window opening must have woken him. “What you doing?” he asked.

Jack turned with a smile. “Nothing.” He walked over to the couch, where Mark had sat up, allowing him to take a cushion to himself. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“You okay?” Mark asked, genuinely concerned. It melted Jack.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding softly, “I really am.” He kissed Mark softly, and he warmly accepted.

“Good. Hey, since we’re both awake, want to actually try to sleep in bed? No shoes, or coats? Might actually be comfy enough to sleep instead of power nap?” Mark offered, though he clearly hoped Jack would take him up on it.

“That’s just a sweet sounding way to get me into bed on the first date, but I’ll take it.” Both men laughed, walking through to the bedroom together.

“And just to be clear, this is _not_ our first date.” Mark insisted as they both stripped down to their underwear. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this, our first date is going to kick ass, not be a random hook-up slumber party.” Mark set his glasses down on the bedside table. They climbed under the covers and stared at each other for a while.

“I look forward to it.” Jack said. Mark smiled, and Jack smiled back. Because he really meant it.


End file.
